


Shut Up and Kiss Me

by Megara Bee (Megara_Bee)



Series: Hiatus Sunday Fluff [6]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hiatus Sunday Fluff, HiatusSundayFluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megara_Bee/pseuds/Megara%20Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The breaking of a curse and reunion sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up and Kiss Me

Mr. Gold and his wife kissed every day, not out of habit or a misplaced sense of obligation, but because they genuinely enjoyed it. It was not uncommon for them to wake up in the morning and start the day off with a kiss, nor was it uncommon for them to phone in late to work in order to keep kissing (and perhaps engage in a more physical activity beneath the duvet).

It was unusual, however, for Mr. Gold to visit his wife in the library during work hours. He came through the door with force, the slam of it against the wall echoing throughout the empty space.

“Belle? Belle!”

“I’m back here, darling!” Belle emerged from the classics section, wiping dust from her hands. “What’s the matter?”

“Kiss me,” he said, limping towards her hurriedly. He threw his arms around her waist.

She put her hands on his chest, laughing. “What’s the occasion?”

“The occasion is: I love you. Now kiss me, you silly librarian!”

She conceded, leaning into his affections. There was more than the usual electric tingle on her lips, though, and soon the warmth of the kiss felt as if it were going to burn her up from the inside out. She couldn’t bear to pull away from him, but she didn’t know if she could handle the heat moving from her lips into her skull and setting her brain aflame.

Suddenly it was like her mind – her life – was being cleaved in two. She could see the life she knew as her own clear as day: Prada jackets and stiletto heels, the way the sun lit up the library in the mornings, Wednesday lunches with Archie and Pongo in the park, shopping with her friends, the taste of wine on her husband’s lips on their Friday date nights. She could see just as clearly that they had been trapped in this routine for years, impossible years slipping through her fingers like water from the tap.

And on the other side she could see a life that resembled a storybook. She could _feel_ the coarse blue material of a work dress beneath her fingertips, the maniacal titter of a golden-skinned magician, the feel of his cock driving into her- she gasped, pulling away from Rumplestiltskin’s lips.

She said nothing for a moment, dual worlds colliding in her head. His brown eyes were fixed on her, waiting, worried. She studied them and compared them to the reptilian ones of memory; that’s what these old sensations were. Memories.

She wanted to speak, but felt as if all of her words had been stolen. Instead she raised a hand from where it had settled instinctively at his waist and brushed it, softly, through his greying hair.

“I liked the curl.”

“Belle…?”

“In your hair. The curl it had in the Enchanted Forest. I always liked it.”

A smile flickered over his lips, but faded with worry and doubt. “Belle.”

“What, husband? Did the curse take away your speech? Here, let me give you mine,” she whispered, grinning, and reached up for a tender kiss. She had to pluck at his lower lip a few times before he kissed her back, but soon that was all they were doing. His hands traveled across her back, pulling her tight against him, one of hers caressing the side of his face and the other on the back of his neck. It was only when they couldn’t breathe that they parted.

She sighed, nuzzling his neck. “I missed you, Rumplestiltskin.”

“Little wife, I’ve been at your side for thirty years. Unwavering.”

“You have,” she said, looking up at him. “So what changed today? How can we remember?”

“The Savior has come to town, and her name restored my memories. I hoped… I couldn’t be sure…”

Belle’s grin could have lit the Milky Way. “True Love’s Kiss. You broke my curse! Oh, Rumple!” She kissed him again, tongue sliding across the seam of his lips until he allowed her entry. They exhausted themselves kissing again, and when they finally parted, panting, Belle found her hands stroking his tie.  “So,” she gasped, “we’re in the land without magic. We have to find Bae.”

He winced. “He’s here. In Storybrooke. John Doe #2 at the hospital.”

“Oh God, oh Rumple I’m so sorry.” She hugged him, hoping that despite her stature she could envelop him in a warm embrace. The Golds volunteered at the hospital every Sunday, Belle arranging flowers and reading to patients, Himself following her around like a doting puppy. They’d read to the John Does. They’d been walking by Baelfire for thirty years. “Come here, love, come sit down,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the small office behind circulation.

He sat in her chair and she perched on the desk. “Do you need some water?”

“No, Belle, I’m alright. I will be alright,” he said, patting her thigh. “We’ll find a way to help him.”

“I can’t imagine the pain you’re in.”

“He’s alive, and I know where he is. That’s more than I thought I’d have.”

Belle bent over to kiss him, letting her lips linger on his. They exchanged small, tender kisses; Belle seeking to give solace and Rumple eager to take it. Soon his kisses became needy, his hands running over her stocking-clad legs. She was incredibly grateful that she’d chosen the low, plush leather chair with neither wheels nor arms for her office; it made this very convenient. She came forward to straddle him, Rumple eagerly accepting her weight on his lap. Here their kisses turned passionate, the last thirty years threatening to swallow them whole as they devoured one another.

Soon they started tugging at one another’s clothes. His tie ended up on her lamp, his blazer and her blouse on the floor. Rumple wound a hand through her hair and gently forced her head back, drawing his lips down her neck. She moaned as his tongue flicked out to trace her collarbone before moving to suckle at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Her fingers worked at the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt –did he have to wear so many layers?- and soon she had minimal access to his bare chest. She ran her hands across it, scratching lightly with her nails. She was rewarded with a bite.

She groaned and rocked forward, pleased to feel him unclasping her bra. It ended up draped over her computer screen. Now he was free to turn his attention to her breasts, hands holding her sides as he latched onto a nipple with his mouth. Circling it with his tongue, he gave a long suck to the right nipple before moving on to the left and repeating the action. Her thighs squeezed his hips as he moved back and forth, showering her with affection.

Soon she felt a gnawing emptiness in her core. “Rumple,” she moaned, “I need more of you.”

Holding her tight against his chest, Rumple stood, Belle’s legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He deposited her on the desk, pushing aside the keyboard. Her hands flew to his belt, yanking it open before doing the same to his pants. When she took him in hand he groaned, head dropping to the crook of her neck.

“I’ll be done in no time if you keep doing that.”

“What, this?” she purred, stroking his length. “How long has it been, Mr. Gold?”

“You know, I’m really not sure. Cursed timeline and all.”

“Well then, we’d better rectify that,” she said, releasing him to hike her skirt up around her hips.

“Quite right.” He drew his hands up her creamy thighs, wrapping his fingers around the top of her panties; tipping her weight from one side to another, they managed to rid her of the flimsy black lace and her stockings. Rumple slipped the panties into his pocket for safekeeping.

This moment had always been his favorite. Face inches from Belle’s, he smiled; they just looked at each other, soaking in the moment.  He took her bottom lip between his own in a slow, tender kiss.

“I can kiss you now,” he said, keeping his nose pressed beside hers.

“I hope you plan to take full advantage of that little detail,” she whispered, stealing little kisses between words. “We have years to make up for… I think I’d like a kiss for every day I had to go without.”

“One,” he whispered as they exchanged short, sweet kisses, “two, three…”

Short kisses turned to long, lingering ones, as Rumplestiltskin’s hands wandered freely across Belle’s lap. He slid one hand down to cup her mons, gently sliding one finger through her labia, pleased to find wetness there already. He pressed a little deeper, pressing the tip of his finger to her entrance; Belle nipped his bottom lip in response. He rubbed her clit, pleased to see that after thirty years of cursed matrimony, he hadn’t lost his touch, and Belle was still as eager as the first time they’d made love.

He spent some time playing with her clit, drawing circles around the little bud, occasionally flicking his finger down to press against her entrance. In this manner he worked her into a frenzy, until she was clawing at his back through his shirt, held up by those pesky arm garters.

“Please, Rumple. No more teasing,” she gasped.

“As you wish, my love,” he replied hoarsely. He pulled his hand away from her core and instead grabbed her hips, tugging her forward to the edge of her desk. He pressed himself firmly between her legs. Lining up his cock with one hand, he stroked her cheek with the other. He looked at her, awaiting permission. She captured his lips for another deep kiss, moaning when he pushed inside her. They both felt the spark – the sensation of being home at last.

Belle was nearly speechless. “Oh, Rumple,” she whispered, over and over, as her hands clutched his shoulders. He fucked her with long, deep strokes, his hands on her ass keeping him anchored. His breath was ragged against her neck. Belle brought her legs up and hooked her ankles behind him. “Faster Rumple, please. Oh Gods yes, just like that. Oh yes!”

She slid one of her hands from his shoulder up to his hair, winding it into his shaggy locks and gently tugging. He growled, hips bucking against her.

“Come for me, Rumple,” she gasped. “Please, I need to feel you in me.”

“Fuck, Belle… I can’t last with you talking like that.”

“Then don’t… just come for me.”

“Ladies first,” he whispered, balling one hand into a fist and drawing it over her side to press a knuckle against her clit. Belle keened at the pressure, rubbing sporadically with his thrusts.

“Oh fuck! So close… so…. so close…” she panted.

“That’s my girl… oh fuck!” With a handful of rough, erratic thrusts, Rumple and Belle climaxed at roughly the same time. Her squeezing muscles milked him for every drop of his seed and they slumped together, spent and panting. Rumple pulled himself from her and limped backwards, nearly falling into her chair.

“Oh Rum, your ankle! I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry!”

“Balls to my ankle! For a shag like that, I’d walk through the Sahara.”

Chuckling, Belle eased herself off the desk and began gathering her clothes. “I can think of a perfectly good, king-sized bed back home that needs a christening. Care to join me, Mr. Gold?”

“Oh Gods, yes. Hand me my tie, dear?”

“Of course my love.” Belle handed him the silk, leaning over for another kiss. “I’m looking forward to a lifetime of doing that.”

“Good,” he said, buttoning his shirt and waistcoat, “I’d hate to think I was torturing you.”

“Plenty of time for that too,” Belle said, smiling coyly at him on her way out of the office, tugging her blouse over her head. Rumple watched her walk away, dazed look on his face. Oh, they were in for a wonderful night.


End file.
